Understanding Perceptions
by TurtleFriedRice
Summary: Mihawk can't pick and choose always what it is he is able to see. Today, he saw Shanks.


**This is my fic for the second day of the Share the Month project ran by the wonderful MyLadyDay and Aerle! Thank you girls so much for organizing this together, it's been fun and very challenging to tackle a pairing I've never tried writing before and so much more love to Myladyday for also taking the time to beta this for me!**

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"So you were hiding again, weren't you?"

Mihawk's hand stopped mid air from pouring more water into the basin and his eyes slithered to the corner, catching sight of the 'patient'. It was to be expected that Shanks would be sitting there, propped up in the bed with a warm smile on his slightly paler face. It was quite stupid, yet amusing, how he was able to remain so calm and care free even after he'd willingly signed himself up for something so foolish that Mihawk could hardly comprehend. Did he even care that all that was left of his arm was just a stub and many soaked and stained bandages? It had to be the shock, no matter how much the other man denied it.

Though, he wasn't necessarily wrong. Mihawk had a talent to catch on to most things and figure out whatever he needed to, but he'd be lying if he ever said he understood the way Shanks' mind worked. Sometimes, it was almost like he was the real perceptive one, but really even Dracule could admit that that was just the characteristics of this red haired traveler.

The swordsman let out a deep breath and set the pitcher back down on the night stand before turning toward Shanks and giving him his full attention. Still, his hand lingered over the wooden surface.

"I will never understand the perks to having this perception, when it cannot even work on you," he muttered, unamused.

It upgraded Shanks' smile to a grin, because by now of course he knew he was right. In doing so, it helped his body visibly relax and he rested his head back on the headboard, the look he was giving Mihawk from the expression he gave just anyone, to something more charming and trustworthy.

"Ah come on, Takanome, don't deny your natural flamboyance," Shanks teased, then clenched his teeth, as if Mihawk wouldn't notice how horrible he was at trying to hide the pain. "You should've come as yourself, we could have had a date."

Mihawk glowered. "You and I both know the several reasons why that didn't happen."

Which there were a few, one being Mihawk's most secret - though the way Shanks continually saw through it was becoming more useless day by day. Because even though the swordsman could easily shroud himself in another appearance, manipulating the visions and appearances - a person's perception, if you will - to those around him, his characteristics were still the same.

It was just an ability he always had and he could no longer remember a time before receiving it. In fact he wasn't totally sure what had happened that allowed him to achieve the gift of perception, only remembering nothing but darkness for a very long time. It seemed almost juvenile to think he got something from the dark- but it always had a way of showing up again and reminding him of existence. It brought him where he needed to achieve his goals and titles, but also what he needed to see. It wasn't just a coincidence of fate that brought him here to see what he had seen.

It shouldn't be misunderstood that Mihawk was hiding from the red haired man, though, when they constantly met in the public's eye and at an occasion such as this. It was his safety to hide behind it - not that he needed protection - and when he blended in and appeared no one special at all, which was far from the truth, he could go about whatever it was he wanted without being bothered or challenged. It was just a part of the package, he supposed.

The swordsman's eyes drifted back to the stub, then almost automatically he went back to filling up the basin from the pitcher, moving to soak more towels before he even attempted to clean Shank's wound. The red head, however, just watched and his smile faded, his lips pressing together in a thin, observing line.

"Then why were you there? Watching me like always?"

Of course, Mihawk couldn't out right say that some darkness was what brought him here and to every other event it seemed crucial he witness as an answer. It was interesting enough trying to convince Shanks of his ability - which, granted, was easier since he could show him in person as proof - but he doubted this would be so easy. Nor did he see anything necessary about it.

Mihawk stayed silent, but for a moment in response the corner of his mouth twitched. Watching him, that's what the red head always referred to it as, like he hadn't anything else in the world to do to pass the time. But to expect Shanks to understand something like that was most likely hopeless, certainly if he was already questioning the man he thought he knew.

"Takanome." Shanks voice lowered, casting a more serious tone, bringing him out of his thoughts and looking away, having done some thinking to himself. "So then, what do you think?"

Mihawk needed only to glance slightly to the side to see him visibly swallow. Maybe he was having regrets? A rather rude part of the swordsman hoped he would finally realize the weight of his spontaneous decision. Perhaps the shock was finally wearing off.

"It doesn't matter what I think, Akagami. What you do with your life is none of my business." His eyes flicked back to what he was doing, preparing these things to help him heal, but cowardly they retreated.

He couldn't do it. He didn't want to be emotional or attached, but he couldn't help it. There was something that just infuriated him each and every time he saw where a part of the one person he was fond of was gone.

"Ehhh. Then is that why you refuse to look at me now? You can tell me, Dracule." There was something about the way he said his name instead of their usual nicknames that already changed the atmosphere. "You're thinking again, I want to know."

"Honestly..." Mihawk let out a long aspirated sigh. "I do not understand it."

It wasn't ever easy for him to do this, even if it seemed like something so simple as human nature, but for a love he was too much of a sucker to properly give out on, he would try. Effortlessly, the veil that had given him the appearance of another person fell and his eyes that were well known to being piercing, met Shanks'.

"You had no relation or debt to pay to that child, yet you sacrificed yourself for him. I thought you had a goal to achieve. Isn't that why you've insisted on these travels?"

"You know more than anyone that anything I do isn't as spontaneous as it might look. You don't trust me?"

The question ignited Mihawk's frustrations more and his eyes leapt to Shank's injury. "Why would I continue to give trust to someone who sacrifices so willingly? That isn't something to be praised and it's infuriating."

"Infuriating or terrifying, Takanome?"

Just the thought that Shanks could accuse Mihawk of being terrified made his blood run cold. What did he even know? He was just this clueless, carefree laid back guy who wasn't even that bothered to lose his arm, like it was something disposable. Like someone who was like Dracule, who was constantly striking down opponents left and right to be the very best and witnessed several things unwillingly from the source of his power would be scared of something like this.

He hadn't even flinch when it had happened and blood sprayed from Shanks onto the ground and the quite literal and almost morbidly comical 'thump' of his arm leaving him that followed. And he was supposed to love this man. So why, honestly, would he be terrified?

Maybe it was because... it could be a lie. Just because Mihawk's personality and lifestyle enabled him to turn the other cheek easily and not react to a lot didn't mean he didn't experience feelings or care. But fuck if he would ever show it, even now. Damn Shanks. Why was it he saw through everything he tried to hide?

"Terrified? You're confined to a bed and you still try to joke?" he replied in a strict monotone.

Apparently, Shanks wasn't buying it. He took a deep breath then urged himself to move and turn towards the swordsman more, hissing when in doing so he aggravated fresh nerves.

"It's not a joke. It's true. This is why you won't look at it, right? I've known you long enough to know you'd change the perception of anything you didn't want to see. But you can't change this, can you?"

Mihawk clenched his teeth and without realizing it he'd turned his chin down and his eyes wavered onto the floor. He could not lie when he'd been so easily read and figured out.

"You assured to me..." he began, careful with his words from this point, "that while you were apart from me, you would not do anything drastic. What do you consider this?"

He watched as Shanks lowered his head, but moved the covers off his legs. With his still intact arm he reached out and over, offering his hand out to the swordsman, his face now softened.

"Come here, Dracule."

Mentally, Mihawk cursed the man. There was something else that was just as infuriating around Shanks that he couldn't understand. The way the man could give a feeling of reassurance without even speaking and practically make him trust the redhead. Then again, it only aided the feelings the swordsman already had for them that were strong and probably looking for that comforting reassurance.

He'd hate doing this, he'd regret doing this, but Mihawk still took his hand and allowed Shanks to guide him over toward him and onto the bed right in front of him, resting gently across his knees. Up close and his face so relaxed, he looked older, Mihawk noted to himself, instead of their twenties they were beginning to outgrow. Without really paying it any mind, he reached a hand up and lightly crossed his knuckles against Shank's cheek.

"You're a fool, Akagami," he breathed to remind and for a long moment his eyes looked over at the other's wound. It was smarter to say it probably appeared far worse in description than it currently was and in his reasoning not to look, he was probably being a little more than dramatic. The swordsman relaxed his body and fell forward slightly, his forehead meeting Shank's bare chest.

He was warm, of course, probably had a fever or it was a side effect of stupidity, but Mihawk didn't mind. He only slightly braced when the fingers of the hand that had invited him there danced up his spine through the fabric of his shirt.

"I know. I should have brought you with me." Shanks smiled and moved his hand, lifting Mihawk's chin and lightly chuckling at his annoyed but precious expression. "You would've kept me in line, I'm sure, and played all your magic tricks. With you, it'd always be a fun trip."

Normally, Mihawk would have been annoyed to his abilities being written off as nothing but magic tricks, but at the moment he couldn't find it in himself to honestly care so much anymore. He rose up to the occasion to kiss Shanks' lips, the thing he'd most missed selfishly, before pulling away enough to nuzzle down his neck. Because if Shanks had such a laid back motto of everything goes and what happens, happens, perhaps he should too.

"You and I have very different definitions of a fun trip," he muttered in an exhale.

Except, Mihawk would never get a chance to specify. In their heated moment, he'd completely forgotten he had been playing the role of whoever it was checking in regularly and catering to his Akagami. In doing so, he forgot that because he had hidden away the real person in order to take their place, there probably would be no one to stop any and all visitors who wanted to pass through. He only realized this when the door opened and a small figure greeted them.

His eyes were big and piercing, in a way that almost unsettled Mihawk, but let's be serious here, that wasn't possible. At his bottom lashes big tears clung and streamed and there was no real need to go into detail about the trails from his nose, that would've been disgusting. It was far easier said that it was obvious the small tyke had been sobbing for a while and with good reason. He was the kid with no attachments that Shank's had given up his arm for, claiming his punishment instead so that the kid could live unimpaired.

Mihawk slightly hated him, but he gave off a familiar vibe he couldn't exactly place. On one hand, he reminded him of Shanks and the aura he put off that automatically somehow labeled him off as friendly but strong. Then on the other, there was something familiar he had that reminded Mihawk of his old friend, his darkness. Perhaps he was being close minded to think he was the only one who'd ever been its friend. Quickly, though, he rose to sit up and scoot away from his lover, knowing full well where this was probably going to go.

"Luffy?" Shanks acted surprised to see him, mostly because he probably couldn't hide his wound so quickly to try and relieve some of the kid's guilt.

Luffy rubbed at his eyes with his arm and rushed over to the side of the bed, wailing out 'Shanks' and his voice shaking every step that he took. Completely ignoring Mihawk, he stared up at the man and it was obvious now that there was an idolization there. "Your arm..."

Shanks' smile softened and he reached over, ruffling his hair a bit. "Ah, it's fine Luffy, it's just a scratch." The biggest lie in history and he made it on purpose, just to try and level the tension. "Come up here, show my friend your magic trick."

His magic trick? Mihawk, who had been watching the spectacle like everything else today, narrowed his eyes. Again about magic tricks. Well, he had picked up the vibe of dark and if that's how Shanks referred to it, it made sense now.

Shanks reached with his good arm and took Luffy's hand, extending it -surprisingly past its sockets- onto the bed and the small child followed with a quick 'snap' and landed between them. Mihawk only rose his eyebrow. Interesting, very interesting. He wouldn't have assumed that to be something the darkness specialized in as well. But now things were beginning to make a lot more sense and Shanks was looking at him once more to explain.

"See Takanome, he reminds me of you. Luffy, this is my friend I told you about."

Punishment would be had most definitely for being referred to as just a friend, but Dracule let it pass. People toned down things for children all the time, he supposed. But it made sense that their similarities sparked Shanks to spark interest into the kid and want to save him, among most likely a lot of other things. That, of course, and Shanks just being a generally good person.

Mihawk peered down at the child who somehow was a lot happier than before and probably proud of his cock blocking ways and sighed.

"And this," Shanks reached up, using more energy then he should again, and grabbed his straw hat from the corner of the bed's headboard before placing it teasingly on Luffy's head, sharing in his larger than life grin, despite any and all situations, "is Luffy. I think we should keep him."

That would definitely be discussed and talked about without the tiny guilty tyke in the room. He met the child's eye and watched as his ability showed back to him all it was he should know, then he turned his face away, analyzing it.

"Dracule Mihawk. It's a pleasure."


End file.
